Sheila Izenberg Hannibal

Hi, my name is Noelle (Elle) Hannibal. My sweet Marmie, my mommy, is entering her final days. My mom is my person. She has always been my person. She will always be my person. I want to honour her final wishes.

She was born on June 23, 1935 to Nathan and Charlotte Izenberg, in Montreal. My grandparents, who passed before I was born, had a successful ladies coat and dress making company which they built from nothing. My grandmother passed away in 1964, my grandfather in 1967.

In 1962, my mom, in true rock star form, married a black man, my father, Marc Hannibal, an actor and singer, and moved to the United States. I was born, their youngest, in Los Angeles.

My father left when I was 5, leaving my mom to raise me and my sisters. She built herself up from a housewife to a successful spa owner and worked as an aesthetician and makeup artist.

When I moved to Canada in 2000, Marmie chose to follow me, three years later.

Marmie and I opened a spa here in Montreal. As many of you know, I am a performer. When Marmie retired at SEVENTY SIX(!) I chose to not keep the spa as it was her passion, not mine.

Since retiring, things have been difficult. She lost most of her vision with macular degeneration, developed Parkinson’s disease and neuropathy, and with her tiny pension was barely able to cover her living expenses. Last year, the semi autonomous facility she was living in, was no longer able to care for her needs as she had also developed dementia. Exactly one year ago today, I moved her into a new nursing home. A fabulous place. But again, her pension barely covered the cost of her living there. in fact, I have contributed to her expenses for the last year.

Now that we are nearing the end of Marmie‘s legendary life, I’m writing to you for help to honour her wishes. It is very important to Marmie that she be taken care of by the Jewish funeral home who cared for her family. Things have been difficult lately, but we always joked that she was live to 123. Her 90th birthday is on June 23. No matter how much time we have, there never seems to be enough time.

I have been writing a song about my mom that I hope to finish soon. It’s called “My First Best Friend.“ I love her so much and my heart is breaking. Today, as the nursing home began comfort care to allow her to live her last days pain free. Just before they began administering the medication, she kissed my hand and said, “I love you so much.” That is likely the last thing my Marmie will ever say to me. I am so very grateful I will have that to keep with me forever.

Thank you for reading this far and thank you for considering to donate to help me make Marmie’s final wishes a reality.

I am so lucky she is my mom.